Here comes mom and her quilt

If you're wondering how I'm doing on the quilt, just ask any member of my family, large or small.  They'll tell you whenever I'm sitting, I'm quilting. 

Emma: "Mom, can I read to you?" 
Me: "Sure, sweetie, just a minute..."
(The next instant I am dragging myself and a gargantuan king-sized quilt over to the couch to sit beside her.)

Ian: "Mom, can you come up to my room with me?"
Me: "Course I can"
(primal grunting followed by me pulling gigantic blankie up the stairs behind me, then hoisting it and myself onto Ian's bed, as I add in necessary sound effects to the "Thomas the Tank Engine" story he's acting out.)

Later, when settling in to watch a movie after the kids have gone to bed, Peter asks if my friend and I can move over, he has nowhere to sit.

Not the most portable of projects, I'll tell you.  But extremely cathartic work, handquilting.  I love it, the "rocking" rhythm of the stitches.  If it could fit in the car so I could stitch while waiting on the kids, I would anoint this the perfect project.  However, I think next one will be just a smidge smaller. 

I am still really excited whenever I see tans, browns, and beiges paired with blues, as evidenced by my recent thrifting purchases.  It feels a bit like I'm color coordinating my life.

I don't know what these woolens will end up being (I couldn't resist such a huge amount for $1.99), but I just love them.  And that variegated yarn, actually any variegated yarn, reminds me of my grandma. I already know what I'm going to do with that.

My current collecting obsession is paint by numbers. 

Ok, well a collection is usually more than one, but its my start.  I recently bought this one on ebay for Ian's room (again with the brown and blue). Maybe its the simplicity of the image, the colors, the horse, I don't know, but its a hit around our house.  I hung it in his room when it arrived, didn't mention it to anyone.  By the end of the day, mister I-don't-ever-notice-what's-on-my-walls couldn't stop telling everyone about it (including our mailman), and his sister was crying because I hadn't gotten one for her.  Who knew?

Well, I should go, my quilt wants dinner.

P.S.- Thanks so much for your thoughtful comments on my last post.  Gosh, I'm so glad you're out there.